Before the Fire Started
by OctoberSky13
Summary: Jessamine was born in District 13. She lived through the first rebellion, and became a mutt when Snow took her and several others into captivity. His curse of immortality gives her hope once Katniss makes her debut.
1. Chapter 1

I was born before the rebellion had started. My father and mother christened me as Jessamine Vanadium Greystone. That was back when religion was allowed. Father died when I was three. I don't remember him much. Mother went mad after that. She got sick, and the medicine was expensive, so she sold my sister to the Capitol. She died three days later, when I was ten. The medicine hadn't even arrived yet.

I worked. If anyone had an odd job for me to do, I would work, for whatever price they offered. Sometimes they were fair, and sometimes they weren't. I hunted, too. And sewed. And did a little healing on the side, but nothing major. In two year's time, I had sold Mother's medicine and, combined with what I had earned, raised enough money to buy my sister back. Rue Germanium Greystone. But, the Capitol said she had died already, and so long ago that there wasn't even a corpse to send back.

District 13 was horrible, but not as bad as District 3. In 3, instead of whipping, they would drown you or electrocute you, depending on how the Guards felt. I think the only reason I didn't go crazy was because of Garrett. Those Everdeens had a way of making even the bad times seem good. He was my friend, and the only one I allowed myself to have.

Back then, we were allowed to come and go as we pleased, as long as we brought back enough food for the Peacekeeper, who was the head guard, to feast on. So, we would go on trips every once in a while. One day, we were staying in our cabin, outside of District 12, when we saw her. When I looked at her, all I could think of was my little Rue. This girl's name was Grayson. Grey for placidity. Son for inheritor. To be a Grayson was to have misfortune, but to be able to say it couldn't get worse than it was. To be named Grayson meant that your parents didn't want you.

She fit right in with Garrett and I. we had become somewhat famous, ever since the Feasted Tournaments. We had each been crowned strongest of our gender, in all the Districts, even 11. We had signed up for a laugh, and then had won in 13, so we had made our way through the Districts, and had beaten the strongest from each of them, as well. The prize for winning was a feast from that District. The only rule was that no deaths were allowed, and we had won every single one of them. That made us the strongest ever. Everyone seemed to know us, everywhere we went, and us adopting Grayson, who had run away from 4, was taken as us adopting a child since we weren't old enough to have one yet.

In all honesty, I had just wanted to protect her. She was the same age Rue would have been, and that hit home for me. I wanted her to be safe, since Rue wasn't. But, Grayson could earn enough to earn her keep. She was an excellent healer, unlike anyone I had ever seen before. I envied her for that, because healers were limitlessly important, due to the nuclear explosions that happened so often. We couldn't save them all, but we could save those that were far enough away, if we got to them in time.

The Guards began to get antsy, one day. Garrett was eighteen. I would have been in another two months, so we applied for a marriage. The right to a priest and any forms of religion had been banned a few years ago. We were denied, because they were too busy with more important matters. The couple behind us were given a marriage license and a house. We disguised ourselves and tried again. We were given a license. We signed our names and they stamped the forms without checking to see who we were. We were married, and had a big toast. Even though there had been more Tournaments since our day, and even though we had grown and matured and were hardly the same kids, the entire country was celebrating for us, because the valiant Everdeen and the beautiful Greystone were now joined as one. We were happy.

When the baby came, the war had been going on for a year. Garrett and I were worried for his safety. After all, anything can happen, especially when your District is being targeted by all the most advanced weaponry. Because the President blames you, personally, for having started the rebellion, because you, personally, made jokes about it while a little drunk in the Districts as you and your husband won battle after battle. I had never meant to.

He took our baby away. Our little Victor. The televisions had all turned on. I turned away, as he cut my screaming baby apart, piece by piece. Garrett watched the whole thing, because he was frozen in horror. The screams were bad enough.

Another year of fighting went on. The other Districts were falling. Especially 12. But we kept fighting. Eventually, the others subdued, and we were left alone. Garrett's pregnant sister, who had been raped at some point and didn't know who the father was, left to go to 12, because it was quieter there, with led killing. There were many who were doing the same. Eventually, the President said that he would leave the Districts alone, if we all gave him some tributes, and did exactly as he said. The others all agreed. The number he requested depended more heavily on the amount of damaged they had caused than it did the population left.

District 13 did not give him any. So, instead, he threatened us. He told us that he would kill child after child on the television until the three of us, just my family and I, surrendered. We had to accept.

We were tested on. Mutated. Tainted. Whatever you would like to call it. I was the first successful one. I didn't die immediately, and I wasn't absolutely insane. I was myself, just different. After that, the rest of his tributes were fixed up, as well. He chose the animal for us. We had to simply comply.

I was a mockingjay. Garrett, who we then called Garrison, was a cougar. Psycho was a parrot. Child was a monkey. The Gregorovich couple were interesting. Elizavet was a bear, and Dimitri was a dog. They were from District 9, where such animals did not exist. There were more of us, many more, but most are dead now.

The President took a liking to Grayson, so he stopped her age like how he had with all of us, but didn't make her an animal. He gave her a nice room with nice food. I don't know what else he did. I try not to think of it.

He had cloned my son, before he had killed him. He allowed this one to live. He named the boy Lesson, but I called him James. I told him he would have been christened James Lesson Everdeen, if I had any say in it. He seemed to be happy when I did.

Eventually, we broke out. I had to leave my James behind. He promised he wouldn't hate me for it, but I still hate myself. I had to leave Grayson, too. She was still with the President, last I knew. But, the rest of us were out and safe, all of our trackers ripped out and left behind. That was when we first discovered the Hunger Games. None of us had aged a day, the entire time we had been locked up. But, the Hunger Games were in their ninth year running. It started the same day that the Feasted Tournaments had always begun. I figured the President had named them out of sheer spite. Just to prove he could.

Garrison and I took the others to a place where they would be safe, and left Liz and Dimitri in charge, while we tried to see what we could do. Eventually, we had to accept that the rebellion had been a failure. The only good thing was that District 13 was free, but even then, it was kept a secret from the others. They all thought it had been destroyed. So, the Tainted and I worked to keep ourselves alive, and to help 13 in any ways we could. Especially hunting.

They had given me a name, back in the cells. Because the President had called me Rose, they did, too. But, now that I was free, and now that they were free, they gave me a name I like much more. It's because I can fight and kill. I'm good at it, too.

They call me Savage.


	2. Chapter 2

Garrison and I would leave on occasion, to see how the world was doing without us. We would always stay in our cabin, the one outside of 12. We were on our way back, one day, when we saw smoke rising from its chimney.

Garrison took on the form of his cougar, and I let my wings grow. He broke into the cabin and tackled the man, while I walked in and stared at him. He went silent. I knew him.

Well, not in the sense that I knew him personally. But, I knew who he was. He had grey eyes. Black hair. Olive skin. A squared jaw. An innocent face. He looked like he could be a brother to my James, but I knew it was impossible. I knew him from somewhere else. He was Matilda's child. He had to be. I whistled my tune, and Garrison let him go, returning to his original form. I stayed how I was.

The Tainted and I had devised a system of speech reliant on tune and pitch. It was so that we could talk without talking. This is what Garrison and I did, so that the man would not know what we were saying. We agreed.

"Who are you?" I asked, ready to kill him if he wasn't who we had thought we were.

"Jordan," he whispered, as though he were afraid to speak to me. I did not blame him; I was rather frightening, what with my solid-white skin, and hip-length, white hair. Sometimes, my black eyes scared even me. But, I would never go back to my original form. I did not deserve to be human, not after all that I had done.

"Your last name."

"Everdeen." Garrison and I exchanged a look when he said this. It was as we had though.

"Who was your grandmother?" Garrison asks him. The man seems to stiffen even more.

"Matilda Everdeen," he said. "But, I don't know who my grandfather was, and I never met her."

"I see."

I held out my hand to him, and asked him to sing me a song. He didn't know which I would like, so I told him to sing a song a mockingjay would listen to. He sang me one about a meadow. One about peace, joy, and hope. One that said tomorrow would be better, no matter how bad today was. I must admit, I enjoyed his voice. With one like that, a mockingjay would listen to everything he sang. I held my hand out to him.

"My name is Savage," I said, watching his eyes grow wide with fear. "I'm married to your grandmother's brother," I explained. He shook my hand, but still looked more worried than comforted. As though I were insane. It made sense, really. I didn't look more than seventeen years old; I had always looked younger than my age, and the President's lack of letting us age didn't help it at all.

"My name is Garrison," spoke my husband. "I am your grandmother's brother. I would tell you my real name, but then you could be killed. You look like her, you know. Especially your eyes." I looked at him. His eyes were blue. They always had been, like his aunt's. His parents, however, had both had grey eyes. He had always been self-conscious about it, which I had always thought was stupid. I looked about as much like my family as katniss looked like forget-me-nots.

We sort of all just stood there for a moment, and then I turned and went outside, to sit by the lake. They deserved a moment alone. But, despite my giving them one, they still ended up outside, sitting on either side of me. Jordan still looked uncertain about it all. Almost as though he were expecting us to turn and rip his throat out at any minute. I couldn't blame him. The world he grew up in was far worse than the one I had, especially since he had to mine so often.

I reached into the water and pulled up a plant that was growing there. I handed it to him. He took it slowly, as though it would explode at any moment. I smiled.

"It's called katniss," I said. "They taste good in stews. We used to eat them a lot, when we would come here. We used to come here a lot, too, when we didn't have to work." It's where we met Grayson. It's where our son had been born. It's where we had spent our last few, free moments. The n, we had gone down into 12, so that we could be turned in to the President.

"You can eat these?" he asked, as though he didn't believe us. I almost laughed.

"Yes, you can. And, my Garrison happens to be the best cook. If you didn't mind, we could make you something to eat? We were just about to eat, ourselves…" I said, trailing off because he still looked uncertain.

"I suppose. Do you want me to catch some turkeys?" I felt myself brighten at his agreement. I shook my head, and told him Garrison could do that. For now, though, it would be best to get some spices and other herbs to add to it.

That was how we had met. We would come and visit him on occasion, and I always made him sing for me when we did. I coached him, to teach him how to get better, and made him promise to name his first child after me, in some way. He laughed, saying something about 'Savage Garrison Everdeen' being the worst name imaginable. Sometimes, we would all sing together. Sometimes, I would bring one or two of the others with me. His favorite was Havoc; a twelve-year-old boy who had become a tracker jacker. Like me, Havoc rarely returned to his original or beast form, preferring to stay somewhere in between. For him, that meant a yellow body, with shaggy yellow hair and large, clear insect wings.

We would laugh and joke around like old friends. One day, he whistled to us in our own language to hide away in the bushes. Havoc and Garrison hid below the tree I was in. I looked like a mockingjay at the time. Jordan appeared, with a little girl running beside him.

"Now, Katniss," he said, "you need to always respect nature. I'm going to teach you everything I've learned over the years, and you have to learn all of it, alright?" she nodded her head eagerly.

From then on, we weren't allowed to show ourselves unless the girl wasn't present. She was his daughter; his first child. And he had named her after the plant I had shown him, just like he had promised.


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually, Jordan stopped coming to meet us. I was worried about him, and went to go and check on him, as a mockingjay. I stopped by a house that smelled like him. Inside was a woman, as weak and defenseless a newborn babe. She was lying on her cot, so still I thought she might be dead, until a little one who resembled her came to fetch her for dinner. Katniss came into the room, with two loaves of burnt bread. They ate it like there had never been anything better in the world; the two girls acting like they were royalty, and the woman almost seeming to take an interest in it. She was more alive than before, though, so I thought it might be good. I wondered where Jordan was. It worried me that he wasn't feeding them properly, and I had hoped there was nothing distracting him. I hoped the President had not found out about our visits to him. They would have killed him. Maybe not in public, but they would have certainly either detained him or arranged for his death.

In the forest, one day, I was watching Katniss to make sure she was hunting well enough. She found a boy, or he found her, because she was playing with his snares and dead rabbits. They soon became friends, and I hoped they would always be there to support each other. They seemed well enough, but I would visit them often, anyways. He was very outspoken about not liking the 'Capitol,' he called it. I supposed it was the place where the President lived. We had called it Central, when I was younger. I hoped Katniss wouldn't be put in danger because of him.

In District 11, they did agriculture. There were always many mockingjays there, so I blended in fairly well. There was a little girl who stood out to me. She was the same age as Jordan's other daughter, and reminded me of my sister. I soon learned that her name was Rue, just as my sister's had been. I made sure she was safe. I taught her a song of four notes; it had been my sister's favorite. I was pleased that she liked it, as well. She began to use it whenever the white flags came up, to tell the others that the end of the day was there. She made it into something even more beautiful than it had been before, and when I went to sleep that night, memories of my dead sister plagued me. I cried to myself. Not even Garrison could comfort me.

I only visited 11 when I needed to learn their state of affairs, from then on. It was too painful to remember. Instead, when I was traveling, I preferred to stay in my cabin outside of 12, or in a cave I had found, off the coast. A boy came there, on occasion. He was really pretty. I couldn't get over his amazing, green eyes. It was weird, the way we had met.

I had been sleeping in, which was rare for me. He had been there, when I woke up. He had been sitting on the edge on the cave, with his feet in the water and a trident in his hand. He was like a prince of the sea, the way he was. There was a basket of fish and shellfish behind him, next to me. He seemed to know I was awake, because he said the strangest thing;

"I hope you're feeling okay. I know it must have been hard on you, losing her like that. I just wanted to be sure you were alright, so I caught you this food."

"Thank you," I had said. "That means a lot to me." We shared the food, like as though it was the first meal two good friends had shared in years, and the last one they ever would. I asked him how he had known about my loss.

"Simple," he replied, looking me strait in the eye. "A person only ever thrashes around like that when they're dying of pain, or emotionally unstable. I took a guess after you said, 'no, not my sister' a few times."

He was nice to me. But, around the others, he acted as though the only thing he thought of was either how to get more kisses or how to get more than kisses. I never asked him why. I seemed obvious enough to me; he wanted attention, and had the looks to get it. Besides, he only ever cared about this girl who lived near him. He was always watching out for her, even when she didn't know it. It was cute, to watch them. It reminded me of the way Garrison used to treat me. It made me think of the boy who watched Katniss. Not the one in the woods; he liked her, but I didn't like something about him. It seemed off. I mean the one with the bakery. He always watched her, to make sure she was okay, and despaired whenever he thought she wasn't. she would give his father squirrels, and because his father knew the boy liked her, he would give her more than a squirrel was worth. It was cute. I never knew the green-eyed boy's name, but I would call him Prince Trident. He never asked me mine, but called me Ariel. I laughed, the first time he called me that, because it had been out of spite. He hated my name for him. I told him it was funny, because he had never seen what I really looked like.

"Why should that matter?"

"Ariel had red hair, like roses. My hair is red, like blood."

He had given me this look, like as though I was both insane and pitiful and beautiful and childish, all at once. It was a very strange look, indeed. He was older than Katniss, by quite a lot. He had been a tribute and then a victor in the Hunger Games, entered in a few years after I had met him. The girl he loved had been, as well. She had gone crazy, though, while he tried to regain his composure. He would still come to visit me, on occasion. We would take turns catching the food. Or, I would bring him some strange meat (well, strange to him) from other Districts. I always thought it was funny, the way he would eat it and ask what it was only when finished. He said that, if something tastes good, you should eat it. If it happened to be poisonous, then you should be glad your last meal was a good one. I thought it was a good motto. I wondered what he would do, if he saw the private storages we had built up for 13. I wondered if he would be mad we weren't sharing it with the others. But, if we did, the President would just take it away, right? Or, shoot those we gave it to.

I hated that we couldn't openly be friends. I knew we weren't strong enough yet, but I also knew we would be, some day. When that day came, I would do all I could to help stir up a new rebellion. I would personally die for the cause.

Or, at least, I would, if I could die. I had been killed before. It was…interesting. But, I had always woken up. I wondered if I would be cursed to walk this world forever. Or, maybe, I would run out of lives some day. Either way, I would fight alongside the rebellion, alongside District 13, in order to destroy the memories of everything the Capitol and, more specifically the President, had left me with. I would not be able to believe my sister rested in peace until I saw him dead. I hoped it would happen before Katniss got called into the Games. After all, everyone knew the Games were rigged. Obvious winners and obvious losers made betting more fun. I figured it was only a matter of time before he tried to kill off the rest of the Everdeen family.


	4. Chapter 4

I was right. But, it hadn't been Katniss. It had been Jordan's other daughter. And Katniss hadn't stood for it. She had volunteered herself to go in the girl's place. Then it got worse. The boy who watched her, the one with the bakery, was the one who was called. And no one volunteered for him. They all just watched. They saluted them, though. The three fingers of the left hand symbolized the three of us. The left hand was because Thirteen had always been called 'the left hand of Central' when we were younger. They were kissed to show the passion felt for those long forgotten. They were raised to the air that the Capitol could see it better. It was a salute first used to show hatred of Central. Then, it was used for the fallen of the Hunger Games, and then slowly transitioned into something used for all funerals. I think Twelve was the only one who still used it, but it was once a wide-spread tradition. I'm sure the meaning behind it was gone, but I remembered. And I had to leave. I couldn't stand to be in that place much longer.

When Katniss was in the arena, I didn't go to see her. I went to Central for a short while, though. I met a boy. He was going to be a designer for her dress. I watched him for a small time, but could not bear it for long. Instead, I waited for my Prince Trident to come. He always came, no matter what happened.

I watched as Haymitch prepared them. I watched as the boy dressed her, and set her and the bread boy on fire. I watched as she kissed the bread boy on the cheek. I watched him confess his love for her, for all to hear. I watched her go into the hover craft, and then I left. I went to Garrison and wept to him. Watching the child die would be worse than watching Grayson die.

But, she didn't. She survived. She and the bread boy were both alive. They were both victors. Everyone was saying that they were in love. She didn't care, though. If anyone really _looked_ at them, they would know it was one-sided. However much the bread boy – Peeta – cared for her, she did not love him.

The little one was killed, though. The one called Rue. There had also been a red-haired girl who died- red, like me. I was sure it was a sign from the President. It meant he knew I was still watching. I was sure he had arranged the bomb that killed Jordan. I didn't need any proof. The fact that the youngest Everdeen had been called, as well as a girl named Rue was enough for me. It meant Snow wanted me to be warned.

The following few months were torture to watch. Katniss and Peeta hardly ever talked to each other. Haymitch was as drunk as ever, which made me ashamed. The Abernathy's had once been a renowned, wealthy, respectable family, back in 13. Then, the Head Peacekeeper (which was the modern term for head guard) was replaced by a man named Thread. I knew his ancestors. They had been in the Feasted Tournaments against Garrison and I, and we had beat them. They were from District 2, originally. I had hated them. I wonder if this particular Thread hailed from the brother or the sister…

This new man found the forest boy who watched Katniss with a wild turkey. He went to go and whip him, almost beating him to death. One of the other Peacekeepers (a red-haired boy, who had the personality to be a younger, male me) tried to stop him, but was beaten off. Eventually, Katniss found out. She jumped in front of Thread, and was struck across her face. A woman Peacekeeper called it all to a stop. I hated that I couldn't do anything without getting them all killed.

I went to visit Trident. He was in our cave, as always. He asked if it was time yet, to start a new rebellion. Thirteen was strong enough. We agreed that breaking them out during the next set of Games would be best. He agreed to spread the word to the others. I told him about the whipping. He laughed.

"Well, you can't always get what you want," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"You want her to go with Peeta, don't you? Not Gale."

"I want her to be happy. Besides, Peeta's a Mellark. Mellarks are nothing but trouble."

"How do you know?"

"I live with one. We call him Crow, but he's really a panther." Prince's confused look made me remember how young he was, and how old my memory could be. "Crows are birds; they used to be as common as Mockingjays. They're all black, like a Jabberjay, but a little bigger and a little less fat. And panthers… you don't know what a lion or a tiger is, do you?" He shook his head. "Right. Well, they're basically overgrown, muscular, giant cats that're ready to rip your head off at any time. Lions are gold, tigers are striped, and panthers are black. Make sense?"

"Not really, but then, you never do. So, what? One of Peeta's grandparents is like you?"

"Sort of. I think Petta's descended of Crow's brother, but it could be his. Crow had a son, when he was called away. The boy wasn't even a week old. We tried finding him and the mother, when we broke out, but…. There wasn't anything we could do. The entire square had burned. We don't know who survived and who didn't. We didn't want to track them down. This way, we can have hope that they survived."

"What district were they originally from?"

"Ten. But, they moved to Twelve a few years before the war started. That's where he met her. And then, everything went wrong." I looked at the sea. The tide was coming in, and the sun was going down. The water looked black, and had a vibrant orange stripe down its middle. The sky was gold, scarlet, and a sweet, indigo purple, speckled with clouds. I took a mental image of it, and sent it to James with the emotional attachment _love you, sweetest_ burning in me.

"Do you ever regret it?" Trident asked.

"Regret what?"

"The first rebellion. Your sister died during it, right? Do you ever think it wasn't worth it?"

I stared at him. I had never thought of it that way before, and I remember hating him a brief moment, because he made me recall everything that had happened.

"No. Rue died before that. Victor, my son, is the one you're thinking of. And, I'm not sure. There are some things I'd rather not have happened, that happened only because of the rebellion. But, there are also things that I'm very happy have happened, that only happened because of the rebellion."

"What kinds of things? Like, 13 being free now?"

"Well, I suppose there's that, but there's also the fact that I can fly now," I said, spreading my wings wide.

"And, what do you wish hadn't happened?"

"Well, my son's death. But his clone, James, was always kind to me. Grayson's betrayal. Us not winning. Me being able to fly. You know, simple stuff like that. Stuff like being immortal."

"Immortal?"

"Well, I can't die, and I don't age. So, yeah. It's also made me sterile. I'm not human anymore."

"Sure, you are."

"Oh?"

"You can feel, can't you? Emotions?" I nodded. "And, you have something or someone you want to protect?" Yes. The Tainted and Katniss and my family. "And, you have someone or something you hate?" Yes. Snow. Central. That bitch Coin, down in Thirteen. But, I couldn't say that last one out loud, so I just nodded my head. "Well, those are the basic traits of being human. Other than eating and sleeping and lame stuff like that, right?" I laughed.

"Right," I say, and bid him farewell. I left him with a half a chicken and a monkey's leg. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to him, for just a moment.

"Ariel," he said, "what's your real name? I want to thank you properly."

"Savage," I said.

"I meant your _real_ name, the one you were born with."

"Jessamine." I hadn't used the name in seventy-five years. It hurt to say, getting caught in my throat for a moment.

"Jessamine, thank you for feeding me. Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for helping with the rebellion."

The way he held me was so sad, so generous, that it made me think of the time Garrison's father had held me, after I told him Rue was dead. Finnick Trident Odair was a kind, sweet man. I would be sad when he died, I knew.


End file.
